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MyspaceDuring the time that Maia, my wolf dog, started her transition to wanting to die, my 15-year-old cat, Joey Joe, was having kitty seizures. These look like episodes of drunkenness. He would stagger, lose his balance, become ravenous, and then fall asleep.
These seizures even caused his retinas to detach. Joey has been diagnosed with hyperthyroidism. This is a now-common cat disease thought to be caused by BPA, a sealant used in canned food. The symptoms of hyperthyroidism can be similar to diabetes, heart disease, and liver disease. (This explains why I was having recurring dreams of making a mistake and giving insulin shots to Joey instead of to his diabetic sister Makia.) Common symptoms of hyperthyroidism in cats are: throwing up often, irrational fears, yowling (mostly at night), becoming hyper and then lethargic, weight loss, and rapid heartbeat or a heart murmur.
As soon as I put Joey on the pharmaceutical his seizures stopped but he started to walk around like a zombie. Because I can talk to Joey I felt confident playing around with his dosage. I lowered it. Joey got thin. Then I split the original dosage and administered it in two halves, twelve hours apart. Joey instantly gained weight and seemed better to the naked eye. I was happy, but Joey continued to talk about wanting to go to Maia.
Our conversations would go like this. Joey would say, “I want to go to heaven too. I have lots of friends there.” I would reply, “Joey, I can’t deal with another death. You are going to get better.”
“Mom, this stuff makes me feel terrible. I hate it. I don’t want to be on this medicine.” “Joey, you look so much better.”
“I hate it.”
A trip to our vet proved that two dosages a day is the best protocol. Joey’s T4 (the main thyroid hormone) levels are back to normal but a slight heart problem and an issue with his liver developed. I had heard of a holistic supplement that may work but it doesn’t work with pharmaceuticals. “Let’s start that today,” Joey said.
So I took him off the pharmaceutical. It retrospect, I should have weaned him off and then put him on the supplement.
“I feel so much better,” Joey says, after one dose of the supplement. Then two days in a row he throws up, and one night he yowls. I am paranoid he is going backwards. I ask, with a scrutinizing eye, “Are you okay? I think I saw you swagger and you’re eating a lot.”
“I am a little dizzy but I feel great.”
“Joey, I think I should put you back on the pharmaceutical.”
“I would rather die on this supplement than be alive on that medicine. Mom, just give it time.”
I obsessively weigh him, holding him why I step on the scale. “It doesn’t matter, Mom, I am never going back on that stuff.” This is one of those times I wish I couldn’t hear him. He would be on the pharmaceutical and I would think everything was great. As it is, I am constantly saying to myself, “What I should do?” and asking my friends for advice. “Do what your cat wants,” they all reply. The other animals in the house say, “Joey looked murky on the pharmaceuticals. He looks better now.” I have to agree.
Last night, Joey did not yowl or eat obsessively. I ask, “How do you feel this morning, Joey?” Joey rolls his eyes at me. He replies, “I am tired and I get dizzy sometimes, but I wonder if that is what happens when your body starts to die. I don’t understand why people want me to fight death by taking drugs that make me sick. Why not support my body with supplements that calm my nerves and give me a sense of peace. I am enjoying my life now. I am not hiding in the dark or feeling sick at every moment. I feel good. I may live more years or I may die tomorrow. I know you are sad because of Maia, but the good thing is I have family in heaven too. I am not scared to die.”
Previous Month
Comments
I always wonder if this "psychic" also has insects talking to her. Viruses too? Bacteria...? Or is it only mammals and only the domesticated of those? And do cockroaches also go to "heaven"? Do amoebae?
MichelleR (anonymous profile)
September 24, 2010 at 2:40 p.m. (Suggest removal)
This "psychic" only hears those animals whose people have both active bank accounts and wild imaginations.
StandUpGuy (anonymous profile)
September 24, 2010 at 4:13 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Or, most unfortunately, those for whom desperation or grief overwhelms their good sense, and fall prey to this quackery.
Michelle R, your comment was amplified considerably by a previous commenter a week or two ago:
http://www.independent.com/news/2010/...
binky (anonymous profile)
September 24, 2010 at 5:08 p.m. (Suggest removal)
Part One
Listen, I went out to empty my trash last night and literally stumbled onto something I felt compelled to pass on. As I lifted the lid to my trash bin I overheard voices coming from a location near my backyard. The voices were muffled at first, but as I cautiously approached I distinctly heard what I recognized as a somewhat heated discussion. The closer I moved to the direction of the sound, the more distinctive the voices. One voice, rather deep and harsh, which could only be described as that of a Cockney thug, seemed at first to dominate the conversation. As I moved even closer, the Englishman was interrupted by a female voice, speaking English, but with a very heavy French accent. I thought it odd that these two would be carrying on with such a lively and committed dialogue, late at night, and in my backyard, until two more voices join the conversation. One of the voices sounded to me like a mix between the voice of the little fellow from the lovely Lucky Charms television ads and the guy who did those unforgettable Irish Spring commercials. The second of the two voices interrupting the one I will refer to as Frenchy, was that of a very clearly excitable Glaswegian. Extremely vigorous but exceedingly unintelligible. I moved ever so cautiously, closer and closer, careful not to expose my presence. At that very moment a number of new voices joined what I began to realize was a heated debate. While the conversation was in English, each participant’s voice carried with it the rich characteristics of distinct international locales. German, Italian, Australian, etc., all very involved and quite upset.
The debate, it seems, involved your most recent article. A significant majority concluded your failure to immediately recognize and treat Joey’s hyperthyroidism was nothing less than abuse. They found the action you took in quickly jumping onto what they referred to as the “pharmaceutical conga line”, predictable, and even further evidence of your insensitivity. I clearly heard the German accent guy say, “Yah!! It’s only a ‘slight heart problem’ and an ‘issue’ vit von’s liver, vin it’s not your own liver!!” The German accent guy followed his comments with something in German that sounded overwhelmingly obscene, but I don’t speak the language of the Fatherland so I’m left to my own imagination. “Felt comfortable playing around with his dosages, did she?” the Lucky Charms guy kept stammering, while Frenchy said, “I’d like to play around with her dosages.”
(Continued)
Theguywritingthis (anonymous profile)
September 27, 2010 at 9:07 a.m. (Suggest removal)
Part Two
I had heard just about enough so I thought I’d break up what I’ll just refer to as the west coast United Nations generally assembly. I walked right up to the rabble rousers and said, “Hey, take it somewhere else. You got a problem with the animal psycho, move this little debate to her back yard. I’m not the one who gave Joey the steroids, she is! Why don’t you just get on your owner’s computers and engage in constructive criticism rather perpetrating a canine conspiracy in my back yard? And which one of you keeps leaving large “presents” on my lawn for me to discover while I’m setting up the badminton net? Talk about insensitive!!”
Laura, these dogs were really pissed. The German Shepard voted to call you out publicly and got a little carried away when he veered into somewhat of a Third Reich sounding diatribe, and the English bulldog voted to stage what he referred to as “bloody protest” on your porch.
All I’m sayin’ is take the time to really listen to Joey. If he’s rolling his eyes at you, questioning his mortality, and has come to peace with the concept of death and dying, (as cats often do at this stage of their lives), trot on downtown, pick him up a medical marijuana card, grab some herb, and fire up the kitty bong. However, make sure you leave the house while he partakes. You’ve obviously been spending too much time playing around with your own dosages. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for adding ganja to your pharmaceutical diet.
Theguywritingthis (anonymous profile)
September 27, 2010 at 9:08 a.m. (Suggest removal)